Zorro and his legacy
by TFALokiwriter
Summary: A discussion between Garcia and Diego about the concept of Zorro outliving them.


"Diego, do you think they will remember El Zorro for a long time?" Garcia asked.

Diego lowered his cup to the table then looked toward the sergeant then gave it some thought.

His hours of sleeping were different from everyone else and he showed little signs of being disturbed by the sleeping schedule that had been changed by a drastic amount. He had became a night owl that operated stealthy in the night and no one knew about it. It was a skill that he had developed not to appear to be tired prior to acquiring the mask.

"Hm. He seems to be the memorable fellow to be," Diego said. "Handsome, elusive, mysterious, and handy with the blade."

"Si," Garcia said, nodding. "But, I cannot help but feel . . . " he took another sip. "He will outlive us."

"Why?" Diego said.

"It has been six months since he entered the pueblo and our regiment," Garcia said. "Comandante used to be focused on himself but now-"

"He is the only thing on the comandante's mind," Diego twirled a finger along the side of his head.

"Si! Si!" Garcia said with a rapid nod. "That is all he talks about! Zorro this!" he waved the partially empty cup left and right in a fit of irritation. "Zorro that!"

"He is the kind of man who will be remembered for his . . ." Diego waved his hand then swished with a tease. "Acts of 'valor' for awhile and then be forgotten just as he had came."

"I doubt that," Garcia said.

"Why?" Diego asked as Garcia sipped from the cup.

"He gets in the comandante's way, anyone's way, when trouble is beginning to stir. He learns of _everything_, somehow, someway, and I don't know how!" Diego grinned broadly. "You have known some of the plans and you haven't told a soul."

"Not a soul, amigo." Diego assured with a shake of his head.

"How long can he continue this? He is not a God, Deity, Demigod-he is a man. And if he continues, he may as well become that way to the people. I have drawn blood on the nape of his neck by accident a week ago. He faltered against me. So he is mortal." Garcia noted. "If he continues to appear then when we least expect it; one day the people will expect him and he will not appear. Or, someone will expect him to be immortal, lay a trap for him, and try to kill him."

Diego paused, thinking it over.

"If no one remembers Comandante Monasterio as a tyrant with no name but only remember the famed El Zorro for his acts of heroism, kindness, and trickery that is worth the risk." he twirled a finger in mid air with a grin. "Not exactly acts of kindness with how he leaves you and your lancers doing goose chases all night."

"Si." Garcia said. "But, I feel. . . Long after we're gone, Diego. . . A hundred years from now. Two hundred years from now! The only person who will be remembered from this era will be senor Zorro! And that is that." he jabbed a finger into thin air then settled back into the chair. "It's a gut feeling, amigo."

"Your gut must be feeling a lot," Diego said. "I am sure history will look back at him, fondly. But regret," He looked aside, his mood changing, grimacing at the circumstance that brought Zorro into existence if only briefly. "that he needed to be made at all."

"No," Garcia shook his head. "History will adore him. It will love him. Who ever he is, his legacy is very rich, because he will _never_ be forgotten."

Diego raised his brows.

"Why so certain of that, Garcia?" Diego asked.

"Long as people like the Comandante exist then he will always exist," Garcia said. "He may be made of flesh, a cloth, saber, and a hat-this is a identity that can be picked up and used to gain the public's affection if worn right. And to gain that affection means they will remember you long after you're gone and talk about you to newcomers, to their children, to their grandchildren, until someone makes a moving painting and the message continues. Then that thing being relayed, preserved, and-"

Diego held his hand up then shook his hand stopping in his tracks.

"Not bad of a legacy." Diego replied. "I doubt that he will be around for longer than a year."

"Si," Garcia said. "I_ hope_ so for his sake."

"Now you are concerned about him?" Diego asked.

"Why not?" Garcia asked. "I like him. I respect him. He is nicer than the commandante."

"Si." Diego nodded.

"We better have a fine comandante after him so he can finally have a good nights sleep!" Garcia said.

Diego laughed, then shook his head, turning his attention away then picked up his cup.

"To Senor Zorro," Diego said. "Being remembered to the year 1920!"

"And more!" Garcia said.

"Senor Zorro!" The other members of the Spaniards agreed raising their cup with a cheer and they all drank.

Diego sipped then lowered his cup with a broad grin.

Trading hours of sleep just to be remembered forever; a fine and unexpected gift trying to help his community.

**The End. **


End file.
